


One minute more

by ephemeralfangirl



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 08:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10356150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralfangirl/pseuds/ephemeralfangirl
Summary: The minute after Helena saves the world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from ff.net.
> 
> This was my vision of how Helena would save the warehouse. I wrote it before we saw the real way.

Fire swirled in the sphere Helena had created, a fierce monster of flame Myka couldn't see through. She watched it consume itself to nothingness and the shield disappear, the heat contained instantly drying her tears.

She looked up to see Helena standing where she died, a beatific smile on her face.

In the silence before Pete whooped in delight, before he hugged Artie in a victory dance, Myka took a step forward, around the crater and walked to Helena. She stopped in front of the genius who had just saved their lives twice, their boots not quite touching and she raised a hand to Helena's face. She stopped just short of touching her, afraid her hand would go through and terrified she would wake.

Helena frowned at her. "What's the matter, darling?"

Her voice sent a shiver down Myka's spine and she touched a finger to Helena's eyebrow. She whispered a touch on the frown, tracing it gently, the soft hairs tickling her finger. Tears gathered in her eyes at the reality her senses were sending her.

"Myka?"

"Give me a minute," she begged, her voice hoarse.

Myka didn't know if she was asking Helena or God, but she needed one minute more of this, of seeing Helena, touching her, smelling her. The perfume was slightly different than she was used to, but underneath it was all Helena.

She prayed for a string of minutes and traced down the rosy cheek, fingers finding the plump lower lip she loved so much. It was as soft as she remembered. Had she dared, Myka would have closed her eyes to savor the feeling, the solidity of it and its warmth. Instead, she kept them on Helena's, watching the questions swirl in the brown irises and the love she saw there.

Her hand fell to her side and tears slid quietly from her eyes as she pressed her lips against Helena's. The saltiness spread as she kissed the upper lip, the lower one, rubbing them together in the ghost of a kiss.

Helena puffed a breath on her lips and Myka slipped her tongue inside, tasting her lover gently. It was an experimental touch, hesitant as if they hadn't done this before, yet familiar, the feeling and the taste permanently burned in Myka's memory. Helena tangled her tongue with Myka's, jolting the younger woman with the tangible reality of their kiss.

With a moan, the kiss lost its sweetness and became all-consuming heat, dueling tongues and clashing teeth. Myka tangled her hands in raven locks, trying to pull Helena closer. Hands found the small of her back and Myka shivered at the feeling. The touch was so solid she moaned and broke the kiss. When they pulled away, Helena smiled. "Remind me to save your life more often; I much prefer your reaction to this than the opposite."

"Only if you don't die again doing it."

"What?"

Myka shook her head and nuzzled Helena's cheek, going down to her neck. She found a pulse point and laid her lips on it. She took a deep breath and counted the beats, each one of them loosening the fist around her heart. It had been choking her since she'd first seen Helena die and she shuddered in relief. She let her hands fall from Helena's hair to her back, holding her as close as she could. It wasn't close enough, might never be, but it would do for the moment.

"Myka? Darling, what's the matter?"

She pulled away and looked at Helena. She was beautiful, she was alive and everything Myka had always known her to be. It pulled a smile from Myka. "Nothing. Everything's fine now."

She nodded as she heard footsteps behind her.

"Are you two done sharing spit? We've gotta go home, bag that mother of a canon and all."

Both ladies laughed at Pete's enthusiasm and they smiled at each other. Myka took Helena's hand and laced their fingers, pulling her toward the exit of the ovoid quarantine. An uncomfortable Artie was waiting for them just outside the door. He looked at them and gruffed out: "Good job. Let's go, there's still stuff to do."

Myka looked sideways at Helena and grinned. They went back a minute in time and it was all she'd needed. One more minute. She could take them one at a time.


End file.
